Authenticity

I have just finished reading one of the greatest books I've ever read: Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The book takes place during the Biafran War against Nigeria, and discusses how the Igbo, in response to being murdered in the Northern territories, decided to secede and become a sovereign nation. The act is important because it stresses the need of self-determination, resisting prosecution, taking charge of one's destiny in the face of sadness, the strength of the human character, and above all else it describes how a state such as Biafra, not supported by any other foreign nation other than Tanzania, stood up against systematic annihilation in order to map out and define what rightfully belonged to them--equality, justice, security, and free will.

The book has made me sad for the couple of days.

While reading the book, I was completely immersed in a story about people who are confronted with tough decisions, make heart-wrenching choices, and leap blindly into their future. The author did not spare a single detail about the horrors of war, and some of the images within the pages--truths--will be etched upon my mind forever.

In China, after reading a book like this, I'm forced to examine my own mortality and that of others, and I have come to the conclusion that I lack the strength displayed by these characters. At a time in my life such as this, where the familiar no longer exist, people die and are born within the same breath, and the future looms gloomily in the distance as the present encloses me more finally than ever before, a book like this that utterly pulls me into a universe divided causes me to consider my place in the midst of things. I am not at war, yet I am in a conflict that threatens my current life and my future, and the thought of proceeding from such a state grips me with a fear that is metallic and cold. Sometimes I see my image in the mirror and feel like I'm misplaced.

Why am I here? What am I fighting for? Where has this complacency come from? Why doesn't there seem to be a way out? Was this the best decision, and if it was, how much worse could the alternative have been, and what could I do to make the end justify the torment I've put others through by my foolish decisions?

This blog isn't supposed to be introspective, but supposed to be a view into some of the sights and sounds I've come experienced. Unfortunately, I've been looking inward for the past 2 weeks, and what's come out has been, until now, not worthy of the digital printing...

I'm changing, growing, and becoming something I don't completely recognize. China does that to a man.